


Trick or Treat

by golden_redhead



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: F/F, Ficlet Collection, Halloween, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, trick or treat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2019-07-28 07:28:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 16,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16237025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/golden_redhead/pseuds/golden_redhead
Summary: Chapter 24: Amami comes back home from one of his trips. [Amami/Ouma]Chapter 25: Ultimate Hunt AU. Yumeno becomes Ouma's unlikely (and rather annoying) companion.Chapter 26: Tenko knows one thing.- - -Her soulmate seems friendly, is what Tenko decides.Friendly and talented, and kind, and all kinds of things Tenko would have wanted in a person designed for her by destiny.





	1. Akamatsu/Iruma - TREAT

As soon as they arrive at the party Miu declares that she needs some booze. Kaede watches as her girlfriend hurries to the closest table, long straw-colored strands of hair bouncing behind her to the rhythm of her steps. It takes Miu some time to decide what she wants to drink and just when she’s about to pour herself the weirdly-looking green punch Kokichi suddenly appears at her side as if out of thin air, the colorful costume of a jester that he’s wearing impossible to miss. Even from where she’s standing all the way across the room Kaede can hear their bickering, the sound of her girlfriend’s distinctive cackling and a constant stream of profanities accompanied by the smaller boy’s ugly horse-like laughter.

 

Not knowing what to do with herself in the room of unfamiliar faces Kaede keeps her eyes on her girlfriend, knowing how much chaos Miu can cause if she lets Kokichi get under her skin. Their classmate is exceptionally good at masterfully pushing Miu’s buttons and Kaede is determined to have some fun tonight before any kind of disaster takes place. And knowing her classmates as well as she does - it’s probably only a matter of time. Especially if Kokichi is already here.

 

Her eyes follow the familiar curves of Miu’s body, observing how the skirt she’s wearing just barely reaches the top of her thighs, leaving very little to the imagination. The medical stethoscope is draped loosely around her neck and Kaede has a worrying suspicion that she’s seen the exact same one in the hands of the timid Ultimate Nurse from Class 77-B. The fishnet stockings are wrapped around Miu’s long legs and a nurse’s cap sits on the top of her head. Furiously red heels she’s wearing are higher than her usual shoes and she’s easily towering over Kaede.

 

The nurse costume is revealing and Kaede honestly doesn’t know what she was expecting. She’s just secretly glad that she managed to convince Miu to leave the giant syringe in her room. She decided to not question how Miu even came into the possession of something like that. She knows from experience that it’s better to not know some things.

 

Kaede raises her hand and re-adjusts the pumpkin hair clip as she can feel it slowly starting to slide off her hair.

 

Her own costume is nothing like Miu’s.

 

She feels somewhat out of place next to her sexy girlfriend in her simple black top and a giant pumpkin-shaped skirt. She fell in love with this costume when she had seen it for the first time. It instantly reminded her of late autumn evenings from her childhood, the memory of her grandmother’s pumpkin cakes and warm, wrinkled hands guiding her hands as she was learning how to make a perfect jack-o’-lantern. It’s a memory that she holds close to her heart, one of the last memories of her grandmother.

 

Still, when she caught the glimpse of both of them in the mirror when they were leaving for the party she almost laughed out loud.

 

A slutty nurse and a pumpkin. What a pair they make!

 

She sighs as she realizes that Miu and Kokichi’s voices are getting louder and louder, catching the attention of some people around them. She starts walking to where they are standing.

 

“Akamatsu-chan!” beams Kokichi at her when they finally notice her.

 

“Hello, Ouma-kun,” she greets him politely. “I hope you don’t mind me stealing Miu away, she promised me a dance earlier.”

 

And with that she takes Miu’s hand in hers, fingers entwined together and presses the gentlest of kisses against her girlfriend’s cheek, feeling the warmth spreading under her lips as a rosy blush immediately spreads across Miu’s skin. The inventor’s embarrassment at even the slightest gestures of genuine affection never fails to ignite this unrestrained feeling of fondness blooming in Kaede’s chest. She smiles softly as her girlfriend starts spluttering helplessly and the blush that colors even the tips of her ears reaches darker and darker shades of red.

 

From the corner of her eye Kaede can see Kokichi’s familiar mischievous smirk as it stretches lazily across his face.

 

“Ew, I better get out of here before the slut orgasms right here and now,” he says with mock horror and with that he disappears just as suddenly as he appeared.

 

Kaede can’t help but laugh, especially when she notices the look on Miu’s face.

 

She squeezes her hand.

 

“Let’s party,” she says, the traces of laughter still present in her voice. She doesn’t wait for Miu’s reaction as she leads them both to the dance floor and straight into the mass of dancing bodies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of the trick-or-treat challenge on my Tumblr. You can find all the information here: http://golden-redhead.tumblr.com/post/178622763944/trick-or-treat
> 
> I'M NOT TAKING NEW REQUESTS AT THE MOMENT
> 
> I need to finish the ones currently in my inbox before I take any new ones.  
> Here's the list of ficlets that I'm currently working on:  
> \- Shirogane/Akamatsu  
> \- Saihara/Ouma x2  
> \- Ouma/Momota  
> \- Saihara/Ouma/Momota  
> \- Iruma/Akamatsu  
> \- Amami/Momota


	2. Kiibo/Ouma - TRICK

Ouma stares at the mess of broken multicolored cables before him, sparks of electricity dancing before his eyes and preventing him from getting any closer. He’s standing in the puddle of oil, deceptively similar to blood in the dim light, even if the color and smell are vastly different. There’s a bile lodged in his throat, but his eyes remain cold and alert as they scan the destroyed area of his old school. He knows better than to let his guard down.

 

What’s left of Kiibo reminds Ouma of the image of a broken doll. The upper part of his body is separated from the lower one, exposing a tangle of torn cables. The nauseating smell of oil is heavy in the air, staining Kiibo’s once shiny metal body with a bluish shade of black. His left arm is missing completely. With a bile rising in his throat Ouma wonders if the robot was pulled apart before his system shut down completely or maybe after that. There’s no way to tell for sure.

 

Ouma’s fingers tighten around the baseball bat in his hand and he feels cold, bitterly cold. He hasn’t even noticed when he started to shake, strong shivers surging through his body. He never expected that he would come back to Hope’s Peak after all hell literally broke loose, apocalypse devouring lives at unimaginable speed and leaving humanity in a state of endless suffering, the battle for survival awakening the worst of human instincts.

 

Ouma doesn’t know the details of Kiibo’s demise, but he’s not surprised by it. It is the end of the world, it should have been expected. With no electricity, there is no way for Kiibo to recharge himself and any valuable parts of him must have been taken by desperate souls hoping to exchange them for goods that would buy them one more day of survival. This is just the way things are now.

 

He leans in to investigate the empty metallic shell that used to be his classmate. His fingers brush gently against the icy cold armored plating. It’s weird - looking at Kiibo like this. His piercing blue eyes are closed, face decorated with numerous cracks and abrasions.

 

All those times when he used to laugh that Kiibo is hardly a person flash before his eyes. After all, Kiibo was just an artificial intelligence trapped in a human-shaped body. Pinocchio naively believing that one day he would be a real boy.

 

If that’s the case, though, then why does it feel like Kiibo never looked more human than he does now?  


	3. Momota/Ouma - TRICK

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was already posted in Intertwined (my Saioumota Ficlet Collection) because I wasn't sure if I'll be posting the Trick or Treat Challenge on AO3 or not. I think will delete it from Intertwined in order to avoid confusion.

Ouma stares at Momota as he spasms on the icy cold floor of the exisal hangar, consumed by the poison flowing through his veins and the disease that’s been slowly killing him since the day when this sick game of life and death started.

 

Even in his last moments, the astronaut puts up a fight, stubbornly refuses to be seen in his moment of weakness. He scrambles to the far corner of the bathroom not sparing Ouma even a single glance, his violently shaking hands tugging at his coat, trying to cover himself with it, trying to hide his face, as if in the last desperate act of saving his dignity.

 

Ouma knows that there’s no place for dignity in death.

 

Some cynical part of Ouma tries to convince himself that he should be happy. That this is what he wanted. That everything is exactly how he planned it to be. There was no hope for Momota anyway, he would die sooner than later. And if Ouma tries hard enough then he can almost convince himself that what he did was an act of mercy. _Almost._

 

Maybe he should be happy that at least the killer girl will be finally recognized as who she really is. Maybe it is some kind of twisted karma, a punishment for her crimes and Momota just happens to be the unfortunate spectator who dared to come too close and got hit by an arrow gone astray. A ricochet.

 

It’s a nice thought but Ouma knows that it’s much more likely that Momota is just another proof of Ouma’s own cowardice. And when hours later the investigation starts and the trial unfolds - this will be the one thing that everyone can be sure of.

 

Momota coughs and coughs and coughs and an endless trail of blood drips down his chin, drop after drop, staining the ugly white tiles with crimson. His every breath is accompanied by the harsh wheezing sound and Ouma feels like covering his ears, but he forces himself not to.

 

This is his own punishment. Much more mild than the one he truly deserves.

 

After what feels like hours of the futile fight - Momota finally collapses on the floor completely, legs giving out beneath him, unseeing eyes wide open as he stares at the ceiling. He murmurs something, but it’s too quiet for Ouma to hear. The words that can be names or prayers or just a delirious nonsense of a dying man.

 

Ouma’s pale fingers tighten around the now-empty bottle of antidote – the same antidote that saved him from the grave and sent Momota to his  – and his eyes remain ice cold and unwavering. It’s too late to go back now.

 

He stares and stares as Momota can no longer breath and his face turns white and even more blood spills from his mouth. He chokes on his own blood, a horrifying gurgling sound that doesn’t even sound human anymore. Ouma tries to ignore the nagging thought of _it should have been you_ lurking at the back of his head. He almost succeeds.

 

Momota dies right before his eyes and Ouma feels nothing.

 

Nothing at all.


	4. Saihara/Momota - TREAT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was already posted in Intertwined (my Saioumota Ficlet Collection) because I wasn't sure if I'll be posting the Trick or Treat Challenge on AO3 or not. I think will delete it from Intertwined in order to avoid confusion.

Shuichi loves this time of the year.

 

He loves quiet autumn evenings when he can just curl up under the blanket with his favorite book in hands, only the gentle rustle of turning pages and the calming sound of the rain drumming on the window disturbing the perfect silence. Kaito’s head is in his lap, his chest rising in falling steadily and eyes closed as he gets lulled to sleep by Shuichi’s warmth and the sweet aroma of ginger tea slowly getting colder on the nearby table.

 

The detective’s eyes skimmer across the yellowish pages of his book and he lets himself be immersed in the fictional world, easily slipping into the role of the protagonist as he investigates the school with red-eyed bears lurking in the shadows and the blood of innocent staining the walls with the ugliest shade of pink.

 

Kaito lets out a quiet whimper, clinging closer to Shuichi’s waist, nightmares slipping into his dreams. He buries his face in his boyfriend’s sweater, inhaling the comforting smell of his mate. Shuichi’s fingers brush against the soft fur of one of Kaito’s ears instinctively and he starts to scratch it absently, barely even aware of what he’s doing, lost in the moment. It feels nice, this familiar feeling of thick and ruffled hair beneath the tips of his fingers.

 

Kaito’s whimpers subdue, chased away by the warmth of Shuichi’s hands and his tail twitches once, twice and then it starts wagging wildly and Shuichi’s lips stretch in a fond smile. He stiffens a laugh that is threatening to escape his mouth.

 

Shuichi had his doubts when they first started dating, afraid that it wouldn’t work, afraid that there are so many things that he couldn’t understand about his werewolf boyfriend. Things he couldn’t relate to. Things that would slowly create tension between them and sooner or later Kaito would realize just how different they are, how normal and boring and _human_ Shuichi is.

 

This, however… he wouldn’t change a thing.

 

Not when there’s a Kaito-shaped ball of fur curled up around him, tugging at his sweater and sighing softly whenever Shuichi’s nails scratch harder. Not when he has him so trusting and loving and undeniably _his_.

 

He puts his book away and leans in to press the gentlest of kisses against the furry ear, the feeling of happiness bubbling in his heart. Kaito’s ear twitches slightly at the contact and Shuichi freezes when he feels Kaito stirring, afraid that he has disturbed his peaceful slumber. However, the mauvish red eyes don’t open. Instead, a soft and almost purring-like sound can be heard, the deep quiet rumble building up somewhere in Kaito’s chest.

 

This time Shuichi can’t quite stop the chuckle.

 

It leaves his lips freely and Kaito’s ear twitches some more, tickled by the delicate brush of Shuichi’s lips and his warm breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: Saihara/Ouma and Shirogane/Akamatsu!


	5. Saihara/Ouma - TREAT

Ouma pushes through the crowd of dancing people, drops of sweat rolling down his face. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this out of place before - loud music, blinding lights, people yelling and dancing and drinking. It’s only because of his admiration for Saihara that he decided to this Danganronpa-themed party and he’s already starting to regret it. He keeps his phone close to his chest, clammy hands clasped around it as he frantically looks around the room looking for a familiar face. There’s a familiar feeling of anxiety blooming in his chest as a mass of people he doesn’t know surround him from all sides. Normally he would admire their costumes, perfect replicas of Danganronpa characters’ outfits, but he has to find Saihara first. All of it feels suffocating, people’s stares on his back have a judgemental to them, music blasting through the room so loudly that he feels the vibrations surging through his body and he has to fight the urge to get out of here and never come back.

 

He tugs at the skirt that he’s wearing, the material brushing gently against his upper thighs and making him feel weirdly exposed.

 

And then he finally spots Saihara and with relief spreading through his chest he starts to push through the crowd with renewed vigor. He immediately recognizes the costume Saihara is wearing and he can’t quite stop the smile tugging at his lips as he thinks about how fitting it is that the boy who wishes to be the Ultimate Detective one day decided to wear the costume of the person who carried this title first - Kirigiri Kyoko. He wears simple black jeans instead of the skirt, but other than that every last detail is just like Kirigiri’s outfit, including her heeled knee-high purple boots. There’s even a black ribbon sitting neatly at the side of his hair, even though he’s not wearing a wig. Kokichi can feel the desperate flutter of his heart and a light blush creeping on his face at how Kirigiri’s dark collared jacket hugs Saihara’s body in all the right places and he quickly averts his gaze.

 

“Saihara-san,” he sighs with relief when he finally reaches the other boy and the dim gold eyes framed with a thick layer of mascara turn in his direction. Saihara looks at him with confusion for a second and then his eyes light up with recognition. Saihara’s smile is as blinding as ever and Ouma can feel his mouth go dry, knuckles going white from how strong his grip on his phone is.

 

“Ouma-kun!”

 

He looks at him with such an intensity that it colours the tips of Ouma’s ears with a rosy shade of red, insecurity seeping into his thoughts. What will Saihara say about his costume? Is he going to like it? Ouma thought a lot about whether he should wear something or not, he was never one for costumes and masquerades, but the deep fear that Saihara would be disappointed if he came in his normal clothes was enough to make him make this decision. He spent many agonizing hours scrolling through websites with costumes and questioning his choice.

 

He can feel Saihara’s judging gaze on his body and it’s almost too much for him to handle. The skirt he’s wearing feels too short, the material of his shirt is suddenly itchy and uncomfortable and music is too loud and he wants to be anywhere but here and everything just feels _so wrong_ and-

 

“You look good,” decides Saihara finally with a nod of approval and Ouma could swear that his heart jumps a little at the compliment.

 

He feels a sudden rush of blood to his face and there’s a strange ringing in his ears. He feels embarrassment settling in his chest, but there’s also another feeling, certain kind of giddiness and even pride at the praise. This silent voice that he usually pushes at the back of his mind that simply thrives in Saihara’s approval and always seeks more of it.

 

He opens his mouth to say something, but he closes it promptly when Saihara’s clammy and yet surprisingly cold fingers clasp around Ouma’s hand as he takes it in his. And then he reaches for a loose strand of dark plum-colored hair that escaped one of Ouma’s hairpins and fell on his face and tugs it behind his ear. He leans in, his hot breath on the smaller boy’s neck, lips almost brushing against his pale skin. When he speaks again his voice is dangerously low.

 

“The cutest Chihiro Fujisaki I’ve ever seen.”

 

He says more after that but Ouma doesn’t hear it over the hammering of his heart and the loud ringing in his ears that drowns out all the other noises.

 

It is a few minutes later when he finally calms down that he realizes that he’s screwed.

 

Completely and utterly screwed.

 


	6. Amami/Momota - TRICK

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Things changed, Momota-kun,” says Amami calmly. “You knew that our agreement was only temporary. You have to leave. Now.”
> 
> Momota’s only response is a low growl.
> 
> “I see,” sighs Amami running his free hand through his hair, the rings decorating his fingers getting tangled in long strands of green hair. For a moment he looks genuinely upset as if he truly regrets the words that leave his mouth next. “I’m afraid that you leave me no choice.”
> 
> [CW: body horror (graphic werewolf transformation), blood]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: body horror (graphic werewolf transformation), blood

“I’m once again kindly asking you to leave my property and move your pack somewhere else,” says Amami with feigned composure, a strained smile playing on his lips and long fingers mindlessly tapping on the glass in his hand. His drink looks almost crimson in the faint glow of the moon. Half of his face is hidden in the shadows.

 

Momota’s hands clench into fists at his sides, his whole frame shaking in silent fury.

 

“We had an agreement,” he says with emphasis on the last word, barely contained anger clear in his voice. “You know that we have nowhere to go. We barely survived the last attack of your sister’s clan, some of us are still recovering. At least give us a few more days.”

 

“Things changed, Momota-kun,” says Amami calmly. “You knew that our agreement was only temporary. You have to leave.  _ Now.” _

 

Momota’s only response is a low growl.

 

“I see,” sighs Amami running his free hand through his hair, the rings decorating his fingers getting tangled in long strands of green hair. For a moment he looks genuinely upset as if he truly regrets the words that leave his mouth next. “I’m afraid that you leave me no choice.”

 

And with that he bares his fangs, hand tightening around the glass until it breaks, shards of glass falling to the ground and blood spilling all over his pale fingers.

 

Momota lets out another long growl, one that would make Amami’s blood run cold… if only he had any blood still flowing through his veins.

 

In front of him, Momota’s transformation begins, hair sprouting all over his body. His limbs are starting to get longer, bones bending and snapping into new positions. His fingernails turn into claws and face contorts and splits away as his snout slowly starts to form. The teeth fall right out of his mouth and sharp fangs appear in the place that they once occupied. It’s a slow and horrifying process.

 

Once the transformation is complete the monster lets out a loud howl that pierces through the quiet of the night.

 

There’s nothing human about the creature standing in front of Amami now.

 

Seconds before he charges forward he thinks about how foul the taste of werewolf blood is.

  
  



	7. Shirogane/Akamatsu - TREAT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaede tries to keep still as Tsumugi hovers above her face, her brows furrowed in concentration, hands firm and steady as she works her magic. Kaede doesn’t think she’s ever seen the cosplayer so focused on anything. She can even see the tip of her tongue as it sticks out from in between her lips as she leans in closer to apply the second layer of mascara to Kaede’s long curly eyelashes. Her touch is delicate and quick, laced with precision that Kaede finds herself jealous of as she observes the graceful way Tsumugi moves from one task to another. The other girl’s fouch is warm where her fingertips brush against Kaede’s cheek and she feels the faint blush spreading across her nose. This close she can feel the warmth of Tsumugi’s body and the hem of her long skirt tickles her thigh. She quietly admires the specks of light reflecting in Tsumugi's big teal eyes and the gentle curve of her eyelashes.
> 
>  
> 
> “Aaand done!” Announces Tsumugi with a bright smile, patting Kaede’s face with a sponge one last time.

Kaede tries to keep still as Tsumugi hovers above her face, her brows furrowed in concentration, hands firm and steady as she works her magic. Kaede doesn’t think she’s ever seen the cosplayer so focused on anything. She can even see the tip of her tongue as it sticks out from in between her lips as she leans in closer to apply the second layer of mascara to Kaede’s long curly eyelashes. Her touch is delicate and quick, laced with precision that Kaede finds herself jealous of as she observes the graceful way Tsumugi moves from one task to another. The other girl’s fouch is warm where her fingertips brush against Kaede’s cheek and she feels the faint blush spreading across her nose. This close she can feel the warmth of Tsumugi’s body and the hem of her long skirt tickles her thigh. She quietly admires the specks of light reflecting in Tsumugi's big teal eyes and the gentle curve of her eyelashes.  
  
  
“Aaand done!” Announces Tsumugi with a bright smile, patting Kaede’s face with a sponge one last time.

 

She looks so cute like that, beaming down at her and proud of her hard work and Kaede has to swallow the compliments threatening to escape her lips.

 

Tsumugi slips a small mirror into her hands, her smile gentle and encouraging and Kaede accepts it hesitantly. She isn’t sure what to expect. She never liked having much make-up on her face, the feeling of various cosmetics sticking to her skin unnaturally never failing to make her feel uncomfortable. It always feels like wearing a second skin. One that doesn’t fit well. 

 

And it’s not only the way it feels, but also the way it _ looks _ . She never had much patience for doing it herself and every time she tried it ended up being a disaster until she finally gave up completely and decided to embrace her natural look. This time, however, she’s going to perform in front of a huge audience. It’s the first time playing during such a big event and after her concert is over she promised her friends that she would join them at their Halloween party. Tsumugi was her only hope.

 

She takes a deep breath and looks in the mirror.

 

“Oh,” escapes her lips before she can stop herself. She looks at her reflection, observing how it  mimics her moves perfectly as she tries to look at herself from every side.

 

“So, what do you think?” asks Tsumugi. She’s not looking her in the eyes, lower lip caught between her teeth as she chews on it nervously. 

 

Kaede swears that her heart makes a little jump at the sight.

 

So when she turns back to her it’s with a genuine smile stretching across her lips as she instinctively reaches for Tsumugi’s hands and takes them in hers.

 

“It’s perfect.”

 

The smile Tsumugi rewards her with is blinding. 

 


	8. Gonta/Korekiyo - TREAT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hello, Gokuhara-kun,” greets him Korekiyo, slightly confused as to what it is that his the other Ultimate might want from him. It’s not often that he and Gonta interact, his bug-loving classmate usually too busy with his insects or being roped into whatever it is that Angie and Kokichi have been up to lately.
> 
> “Can I be of any assistance to you?” he asks pleasantly, folding his bandaged hands in his lap.
> 
> Gonta hesitates, unsure expression of his face, but then he seems to make up his mind and he sits on the grass next to him. Korekiyo watches with fascination as immediately he’s swarmed with all kinds of bugs and insects as if they’re attracted to him by some kind of magnetic power.
> 
> “Gonta is worried about Korekiyo.”

It’s a sunny day, heat almost unbearable as summer reaches its peak.

 

Korekiyo is sitting on the grass, looking through the manuscripts that he’s been trying to decipher for quite some time now, when a long shadow falls on him, successfully cutting off the sunrays.

 

Korekiyo raises his head only to be met with the worried pair of eyes of certain Ultimate Entomologist, the expression on his face puzzled.

 

“Hello, Gokuhara-kun,” greets him Korekiyo, slightly confused as to what it is that his the other Ultimate might want from him. It’s not often that he and Gonta interact, his bug-loving classmate usually too busy with his insects or being roped into whatever it is that Angie and Kokichi have been up to lately.

 

“Can I be of any assistance to you?” he asks pleasantly, folding his bandaged hands in his lap.

 

Gonta hesitates, unsure expression flickers across his face, but then he seems to make up his mind and he sits on the grass next to him. Korekiyo watches with fascination as immediately he’s swarmed with all kinds of bugs and insects as if they’re attracted to him by some kind of magnetic power.

 

“Gonta is worried about Korekiyo.”

 

Korekiyo blinks at him, confused.

 

“Oh? Whatever do you mean?” He asks, tilting his head to the side.

 

“Why Korekiyo sit here alone? Korekiyo not want to join other friends?”

 

Korekiyo considers his words for a second. He turns back slightly to look in the direction of the Academy where all the other students are having a picnic of their own. From where he sits he can make out Kirumi’s graceful figure in the distance. When she’s not watching over everyone to make sure that all of them drink enough water she seems to be engaged in a conversation with Kaede. Next to the pianist sits Angie, her pencil dancing furiously across the sketchbook that she’s clutching in her hands. Ryoma stands above her, listening to Rantarou and Shuichi who both seem to discuss the book that recently caught the detective’s attention. A few meters away, Tenko is playing with Himiko’s hair, the smaller girl curled up in the Ultimate Aikido’s Master lap and napping quietly. Suddenly, Kokichi’s obnoxious laugh reaches Korekiyo’s ears and he watches as the smaller boy dumps an entire bowl of lemonade on Kaito’s head. The astronaut shrieks in horror and then immediately jumps to his feet and gives chase after Kokichi, who keeps laughing maniacally the whole time.

 

It seems like they’re enjoying themselves.

 

Korekiyo turns back to Gonta and offers him a half-shrug.

 

“Ah, I simply do not think that they would appreciate my company.”

 

Gonta’s eyebrows furrow.

 

“Gonta not understand,” he looks at Korekiyo sadly, hoping for some kind of explanation, one that he would understand. A particularly big bug crawls along the length of his forearm until it reaches Gonta’s palm. Once there the Ultimate Entomologist starts to pat it gently as if it’s some kind of miniature cat.

 

 _Fascinating_ , thinks Korekiyo with something akin to awe as he makes a mental note to look into it later. Considering how common entomophobia is, Gonta’s talent is a truly unique - and often underappreciated - one.

 

“I enjoy solitude,” explains Korekiyo simply.

 

Gonta still doesn’t look convinced, gnawing at his lower lip in a nervous manner. He seems to be deep in thought, clearly bothered that Korekiyo is sitting here on his own while others are all gathered together over food, drinks and lazy conversations about school life.

 

“Oh!”

 

Gonta’s entire face lights up when suddenly an idea hits him.

 

“Then Gonta sit here with Korekiyo and keep him company!”

 

Korekiyo is taken aback at first, but then he lets out a quiet chuckle when not waiting for his reaction Gonta starts to enthusiastically describe a new species of bug that he has discovered recently, voice booming and eyes bright.

 

 _What an interesting development_ , thinks Korekiyo with a quiet hum. He carefully puts his manuscripts away, for now content with just listening to his classmate as he blabbers happily about bugs.

 


	9. Momota/Ouma - TRICK #2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Geez, Momota-chan, just get the message already.”
> 
> When Ouma speaks his voice sounds raspy with misuse. He looks tired, all sunken eyes and near-skeletal limbs. He’s not looking in Momota’s direction anymore, instead staring at the ceiling above his head and the single flickering light bulb illuminating the room. 
> 
> Momota blinks dumbly.
> 
> “What message?”
> 
> “Don’t play dumb with me, Momota-chan,” annoyance is clear in Ouma’s voice now. “You are the one who brought a corpse into his house.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zombie Apocalypse AU
> 
> CW: blood, wound description

 

“Ouma? I’m back!”

 

Momota sneaks into the small abandoned shed that has been their hideout for the last two weeks, hugging a small black backpack close to his chest. He lets out a quiet sigh of relief when everything seems to be just like it did before he left to scavenge the area looking for some supplies. He immediately rushes to the corner of the shed where he set up a makeshift bed, putting the backpack on the nearby stool.

 

He stands above Ouma’s resting form, fidgeting in place nervously. His heart clenches painfully at the sight before him. Ouma’s eyes raise to meet with his briefly. They look dim and dazed, nothing like he remembers them from their school times, always bright and full of mischief. There’s dried blood and dirt on his face and deep dark bruises decorating the skin under his eyes. The long dark strands of hair are plastered to his forehead, splotches of red spread across his cheeks. Momota can feel the heat radiating from the other boy’s smaller body, a damning evidence of his own uselessness. If only he was faster, if only he got there on time…

 

He clears his throat to chase away the intrusive thoughts that swarm his head and catch Ouma’s attention.

 

“We have enough water to last us a few days. Good thing that I managed to find that baseball bat yesterday” he informs Ouma, gesturing to the place where he put it against the wall. He keeps rambling, he knows that Ouma doesn't really care, but right now he is determined to do anything, just to loosen up the nervous knot of his insides, even if only a little bit. Anything to take his mind off... other matters. “I’m sure I can protect us from zombies with that thing, but we still need to find a new hideout soon, we can’t stay here much longer and—”

 

“Geez, Momota-chan, just get the message already.”

 

When Ouma speaks his voice sounds raspy with misuse. He looks tired, all sunken eyes and near-skeletal limbs. He’s not looking in Momota’s direction anymore, instead staring at the ceiling above his head and the single flickering light bulb illuminating the room.  

 

Momota blinks dumbly.

 

“What message?”

 

“Don’t play dumb with me, Momota-chan,” annoyance is clear in Ouma’s voice now. “You are the one who brought a corpse into his house.”

 

Momota swallows around the bile in his throat.

 

“It’s gonna be alright,” he promises against all logic, voice uncharacteristically quiet. “It’s gonna be okay, Ouma. You’re gonna get better and… and, uh…”

 

He trails off, his whole body shaking with barely contained sobs. He blinks a few times, trying to chase away the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. He takes a shuddering breath, trying to calm himself. For a moment he just continues to breathe, inhaling and exhaling slowly, just like Saihara taught him years ago. When his vision is no longer blurred he looks at Ouma only to be met with a pair of big bloodshot eyes, surprisingly clear despite the fever.

 

“You’re a cruel man, Momota-chan,” Ouma informs him with a hint of humorless amusement in his voice.

 

Momota’s eyebrows furrow and for a moment he looks almost hurt.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Oh, nothing, Momota-chan,” drawls Ouma and his voice suddenly sounds very tired. “Just that you’re a terrible liar.”

 

Momota’s hands clench into fists at his sides.

 

“I’m not a liar,” he manages through gritted teeth.

 

Ouma laughs at that, a harsh and barking sound.

 

However, soon his laughter turns into a coughing fit, his whole body shaking as he gasps, desperately trying to catch his breath. He covers his mouth with his hand and coughs, his whole body shaking like a leaf. Momota rushes to his side, hands hovering above him as he doesn’t know what to do, how to lessen the pain he must be in. Finally, after what feels like hours, the coughing begin to subdue and with one last weak cough Ouma can breathe again.

 

Momota catches the glimpse of blood on his sleeve when Ouma takes his hand away from his mouth. He does his best to ignore the way his heart clenches painfully at the sight.

 

“I’m not going to leave you, Ouma,” he declares with as much certainty as he can muster. “I promise you, I’m not going anywhere.”

 

With the last ounce of strength, Ouma manages to sit down and forces his eyes open, staring at Momota with feverish eyes.  

 

“Oh really?” His words are coated with poison and eyes like steel, cold and unwavering. “And what are you planning to do about this?”

 

In one swift movement, he reaches to the blanket covering his lower body and tosses it to the side exposing his right ankle. Momota can’t help but stare at the sight before him with his mouth open. It wasn’t that bad the last time he’s seen it…

 

What once was Ouma’s ankle is now a big festering wound, the constant stream of blood oozing out of it. There is a clear outline of teeth marks and what Momota really hopes is not a bone. The wound is infected, the skin all around it red and irritated. There’s some kind of yellowish substance seeping out of it, staining the sheets that Ouma’s resting on.

 

The infection is spreading and there’s nothing Momota or anyone else could do to stop it.

 

“You weren’t supposed to take the bandages off,” he manages to choke out.

 

He reaches to take the bandages from the nearby bag, but before he can do that long pale fingers wrap around his wrist. He frowns and looks at Ouma questioningly.

 

“Momota,” Ouma’s grip on his arm is surprisingly strong considering his state and Momota lets out a quiet hiss of pain when the smaller boy’s nails dig deep into his skin. “I’m not making it out of this alive. You know what getting bitten by one of the undead means. So stop playing a goddamn hero and save yourself while you still have a chance. I’m a dead man.”

 

Ouma’s grip tightens even more.

 

The words that leave his mouth next sound awfully like an order.

 

“Get the hell out of here.”

  



	10. Iruma/Akamatsu - TREAT (kinda)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaede watches the girl patiently, a polite smile still plastered on her face and can’t help but think that maybe she’s staring at the future participant of Danganronpa. This is why she tends to avoid children, the intrusive thought always somewhere at the back of her head when she’s around children. It is a stretch, of course it is, she’s perfectly aware of it. Danganronpa's popularity has been decreasing recently and maybe by the time this girl reaches the age of consent there will be no more Danganronpa and people will find a new obsession, but… honestly, who is she kidding?
> 
> Kaede can’t imagine the world with no Danganronpa in it.

The doorbell suddenly rings throughout the house and Kaede fights the urge to roll her eyes irritatedly. With a quiet sigh, she gets up from the couch, leaving the book she was reading on the table with its cover up. She heads in the direction of the front door with a slight scowl on her face.

 

“Coming!”

 

She grabs the bowl filled to the brim with candy on her way to the door and with one last look in the hallway mirror to make sure that she looks at least somewhat presentable she opens the door.

 

“Trick or treat!” Greets her a childish voice.

 

She looks down and finds herself staring at a little girl, no older than five years old, with a mass of long blonde hair and a wide toothy smile. Her eyes are piercing blue, the color of the sunny sky, and Kaede briefly thinks that they look awfully familiar, even though she’s not sure why. The girl is wearing a black vampire cape and when she smiles Kaede can see cheap plastic fangs attached to her real teeth. There’s a red paint smeared on her chin, a poor imitation of blood. Barely stifling yet another tired sigh Kaede kneels next to the girl so that their eyes are on the same level. She smiles in what she hopes is a gentle manner, trying to ignore the sense of frustration blooming in her chest and offers the bowl to the child.

 

The girl’s entire face lights up at the sight of the candy and she immediately grabs the bowl greedily and dips her small hand in it, papers rustling as she’s trying to find her favorites.

 

Kaede watches the girl patiently, the polite smile still plastered on her face and can’t help but think that maybe she’s staring at the future participant of Danganronpa. This is why she tends to avoid children, the intrusive thought always somewhere at the back of her head whenever she’s around them. She knows that it's absurd, of course it is, she’s perfectly aware of it. Danganronpa's popularity has been decreasing recently and maybe by the time this girl reaches the age of consent there will be no more Danganronpa and people will find a new thing to obsess over, but… honestly, who is she kidding?

  
  
Kaede can’t imagine the world with no Danganronpa in it

 

Finally, the girl seems to find the chocolate candy that she likes, a big happy grin stretched across her face. She opens her mouth to thank Kaede when suddenly a new voice calls from behind her.

 

“Hurry up, Aoi! We have two more streets and tomorrow is a school day!”

 

Kaede stiffens, frozen in place. A flicker of recognition passes through her face

 

“Coming, mommy!”

 

The child sends a small smile to Kaede and bows quickly in gratitude, clutching the offered candy close to her chest. She murmurs a quiet ‘thank you!’ and with that she skips away from the door in the direction of the voice. The voice that Kaede would recognize everywhere, no matter how many years have passed.

 

She straightens up and raises her eyes only to see the person she never thought she would see again, not after she had left the hospital almost two years ago and promised herself that she would never look back.

 

A few feet away, right next to her mailbox, stands one of the many people she thought belonged to her past.

 

“…Iruma-san?”

  



	11. Saihara/Ouma/Momota - TRICK

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sooo~! We get to dress up, riiight?” He tilts his head to the side, looking at Kaito questioningly.
> 
>  
> 
> The ex-astronaut visibly hesitates, as if sensing the trap hidden in the smaller boy’s voice. It passes quickly, however, as he seems to choose to trust him due to the occasion, and soon enough he’s beaming at Kokichi, excitement in his eyes.
> 
>  
> 
> “We sure as hell do!” he says, nodding enthusiastically. “I already know what costume I want to wear and you better think about something cool, too, ‘kay?”
> 
>  
> 
> Kokichi’s lips stretch into a devilish grin.
> 
>  
> 
> “Oh, I sure will.”
> 
>  
> 
> Shuichi can feel the sense of dread settle in his stomach, but chooses to press his lips into a thin line and doesn’t say anything. There’s no point. Nothing can stop Kokichi once he sets his mind on something and besides - Shuichi doesn’t want to upset Kaito, not when he looks so proud of himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've read my other fanfic 'Full Circle you probably know this scene. I decided to add a few things and extend it a bit, so it can also work as an oneshot. So, even if you've read 'Full Circle' - you might want to read this scene again, this time with some slight changes.

They celebrate Halloween. It goes about as well as expected.

 

It’s Kaito who suggests it, because that’s exactly the kind of thing that Kaito would do _.  _ He mentions it for the first time in mid-September during breakfast, just when Shuichi is about to stand up from the table to put his cup in the sink. Kaito presents his idea with typical for him enthusiasm, rambling something about fun and special ocassion and how it’s ‘a chance to do something together’. His eyes are wide and bright as he gestures animatedly, listing all the reasons why it’s a good idea. When he finishes he looks at Shuichi and Kokichi with a wide grin stretching on his smile, the look on his face expectant.

 

After a moment of hesitation Shuichi simply nods his head, smiles at Kaito softly and agrees that it’s a great idea and that they are sure to have a lot fun. Because that’s the kind of thing that Shuichi would do. Or at least that’s what Shuichi from the game would have done. He was never good at refusing Kaito anything, especially if it’s something as harmless as the celebration of a silly holiday.

 

Kokichi’s face goes blank at first in this way that never fails to make Shuichi shudder, if only a little. It’s like looking at a porcelain doll, beautiful in it’s emotionless state, but also stridently empty. He remembers that face from the game, the way Kokichi retreats to this blank state when he doesn’t want to betray any of his thoughts.Shuichi always finds it unnerving. He was supposed to be the detective after all and reading people is something he should be good at. However, when it comes to Kokichi nothing is ever easy. 

 

He watches as the blank expression fades and gives place to the smile that slowly, creepily blossoms on Kokichi’s face as he considers Kaito’s proposition.

 

“Sooo~! We get to dress up, riiight?” He tilts his head to the side, looking at Kaito questioningly.

 

The ex-astronaut visibly hesitates, as if sensing the trap hidden in the smaller boy’s voice. It passes quickly, however, as he seems to choose to trust him due to the occasion, and soon enough he’s beaming at Kokichi, excitement in his eyes.

 

“We sure as hell do!” he says, nodding enthusiastically. “I already know what costume I want to wear and you better think about something cool, too, ‘kay?”

 

Kokichi’s lips stretch into a devilish grin.

 

“Oh, I sure will.”

 

Shuichi can feel the sense of dread settle in his stomach, but chooses to press his lips into a thin line and doesn’t say anything. There’s no point. Nothing can stop Kokichi once he sets his mind on something and besides - Shuichi doesn’t want to upset Kaito, not when he looks so proud of himself. 

 

The weeks pass by fast and when the evening of the judgement day comes Kokichi rushes to the bathroom giggling like a maniac and slams the door behind him with a resonating thud. He spends nearly an hour there and Shuichi winces at every occasional noise that seeps through the thin door, unexplained anxiety spreading through his veins. He doesn't know what to expect but all of his instincts are screaming at him that it can't be good. 

 

When the door finally opens and Kokichi appears before them there’s a loud choking sound and Shuichi barely registers the fact that it came out of his own mouth. Kaito stands frozen next to him, motionless as shock paints his face white when the realization slowly sinks in.

 

The first thing Shuichi's confused brain registers is a checkered scarf wrapped around Kokichi’s neck. The memory of holding it in his hands, soaked with toilet water is burned in Shuichi’s memory, the image easily resurfacing in his mind. The boy before him is wearing a white outfit that weirdly resembles a straitjacket, the costume of the Ultimate Supreme Leader impossible to be mistaken for anything else. It's exactly like Shuichi remembers it, but there’s also something new. The specks of bright pink paint decorate the shirt  - one on his right arm and the other, bigger, on his back. Shuichi notices the one on his back only because Kokichi makes sure to make a perfect twirl when he enters the room, as if to ensure that they won’t miss it. There’s also some paint dripping down his face and when Shuichi blinks he can see a different hallway, one with wooden floorboards and ghosts of people he used to know hovering in the corners. 

 

“It’s the day of the dead after all!” Declares Kokichi cheerfully at their frozen in shock expressions. He sounds as if he’s announcing some big good news. “And we’re all dead here!”

 

“K-kokichi!” When Shuichi finally odzyskać głos he sounds almost scandalized, a look of wordless disbelief on his face.

 

“Ah, right!” Kokichi nods and taps a pale fingers against his lips as if he's deep in thought. His lips curl into a pout. “ We’re all dead here  _ except  _ for the mister survivor over there.”

 

And then he laughs, that horse-like ugly sound that Shuichi hears in his dreams so often, nightmares of hydraulic presses haunting him on those rare occasions when he actually manages to slip into the realm of dreams.

 

This time Kokichi’s laugh sounds oddly hollow.

 

Shuichi opens his mouth, but before any words get a chance to come out Kaito lets out 

 

Kaito storms out of the room, while the wide smile plastered on Kokichi’s face only grows and grows and yet never reaches his eyes.

 

It’s only when the door to Kaito’s room slam shut Kokichi turns to Shuichi.

 

“Too soon?”

 

Needless to say, Kaito and Shuichi never get a chance to wear their costumes and the door to Kaito’s room remains closed shut for the rest of the night, no matter how many times Shuichi knocks and calls out his name.

 

When it’s clear that it’s for naught he sends a hard glare at Kokichi - who moved to sit on their kitchen counter, still in the costume and waving his legs back and forth like a child as if nothing had happened - and storms out to the quiet of his own room. 

 

He can feel his blood boiling in his veins, a bittersweet bile swelling in his throat as he jumps on his bed face down, groaning into the pillows. He can feel the influence of this Shuichi from-before-the-game, his presence tingling just under his skin and threatening to break through. He refuses to let this monster take reign of his body, he refuses to let him hurt Kaito or Kokichi or anyone else. 

 

He wonders if Kokichi also has this other Kokichi in him. 

 

The one who wanted all of this, who wanted this dubious fame and nightmares of bloodstained hands and laughing bears.

 

He knows that Kokichi has a tendency to push people away, he made it very clear in their game. As much as the smaller boy liked to act as if  it would be unwise for him to trust others, Shuichi has a hunch that the truth is much more complicated. Because maybe,  _ just maybe _ , it’s not because Kokichi doesn’t find other people trustworthy. Maybe it’s that he doesn’t see himself as a person who would be worthy of other people’s trust. 

 

This is a nice thought, even if it doesn’t look at such, not at the first glance.

 

But it’s easier to believe this truth. It’s easier to believe that all this masquerade was just an act of an unstable kid who went through hell and back, who has seen too much and died stripped naked of any pride, lonely and knowing that no one will cry for him. It’s a thought that it’s comforting in its absurdity, the one that maybe in his own unique and twisted way this is how Kokichi shows that he cares. 

 

He stopped hoping that anything would be ever easy with Kokichi Ouma a long time ago. 

 

And even though Shuichi knows it all, there’s also this other part of him, the part he’s not proud of that whispers vile, poisonous words into his ears. 

 

He wishes that he could shut this voice up once and for good.

 

He curls up under the blanket and tries to chase all the thoughts away until there’s nothing. No astronauts, no detectives, no supreme leaders and most certainly - no killing games.


	12. Harukawa/Yumeno - TRICK

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **CW:** cutting (only implied), unhealthy coping mechanisms, hospitalisation

“I visited Saihara-kun in the hospital yesterday,” says Himiko meekly. Her fingers are wrapped around the cup, enjoying the warmth — even though it’s nearly burning her fingertips — and the sweet aroma of tea filling the air. The cafe they are sitting in is small and cozy, away from the busy streets and curious eyes of Danganronpa’s fans. 

 

Maki only hums and nods curtly from the other side of the table, the strawberry shortcake in front of her untouched. Himiko gets an unpleasant feeling that the other girl is only waiting to bolt out of her seat and leave, never looking back. Himiko can’t blame her, not really, they’ve been falling out for a while now, all three of them. After they left the game Himiko hoped against hope that they would stay together but it looks like it simply wasn’t meant to be.

 

Something twists painfully in her stomach.

 

“How is he?” asks Maki finally, but it sounds more like an obligation rather than an actual concern.  

 

Himiko blinks at her slowly. “Oh, um… The doctors are saying that he’s getting better. He should be able to leave the hospital soon.” 

 

“Good,” responds Maki, voice flat as her eyes remain as cold as ever. 

 

It seems that she has nothing more to say and the silence between them stretches uncomfortably. Himiko starts to fidget in her seat. She does her best to visit Shuichi as often as possible, even though the hospital he’s currently in is almost two hours away from her place and on most days she can’t even find enough energy to get out of bed. The hospital itself reminds her too much of the one they were placed in after their season ended, sterile white walls and the repulsive smell of antiseptics heavy in the air. She remembers the first time she visited him, the hollow look of his eyes and the heavy layer of bandages wrapped around his wrists. She couldn’t stand it for more than ten minutes and it took her over a week to come back again. 

 

“What about you, Harukawa-san?” asks Himiko politely, sick of the prolonged silence. Her voice cracks slightly. “It’s been a while since we’ve last heard from you.”

 

“I’m fine,” informs her Maki and Himiko instantly knows that she’s not going to get more than that out of her. She watches as Maki looks at her watch and frowns slightly. “Actually, I have a meeting in twenty minutes. I should go.”

 

“Nyah? But you’ve just got here,” protests Himiko weakly, unexplained dread spreading through her veins. ”You can’t go now!”

 

Maki ignores her and stands up. She reaches to her purse and throws a few bills on the table next to still untouched shortcake. Himiko can only watch as she puts on her coat, dark chin-length hair brushing against the material of the collar. She nods at Himiko, seemingly unbothered by the look of utter disbelief on the smaller girl’s face and leaves without saying goodbye.

 

Himiko doesn’t move, her eyes fixed on the chair that was occupied by Maki only a minute ago. She can feel the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes, a quiet chant of ‘this isn’t happening’ echoing in her head.

 

Maki is almost out of the cafe when she suddenly hesitates, hand on the doorknob and calls out Himiko’s name.

 

The ex-magician lets out a surprised squeak and almost jumps in her seat. She turns in Maki’s direction, her fingers suddenly trembling. The tea in her cup is swishing around so much that it threatens to spill all over her fingers. 

 

“Y-yes?” 

 

“I actually wanted to tell you something,” admits Maki. A faint shadow of guilt crosses her face but it disappears so quickly that Himiko might have just imagined it.

 

“W-what is it?” asks Himiko but the horrible sinking feeling in her gut informs her that she knows before the words leave Maki’s mouth.

 

“Don’t call me again, Yumeno-san. Ever.”

 

And with that she finally leaves, the door closing behind her with a gentle thud. 

 

Himiko slumps down in her chair and sobs.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> October is over, so I'm no longer taking requests. Thank you for the ones you sent me! I'm slowly working on the ones that are still in my Tumblr inbox. I had a small writer block at the beginning of November and I'm trying to start posting regularly again :)


	13. Saihara/Momota - TRICK

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you sure, Momota-kun?”
> 
> Shuichi fidgets in place, clasping and squeezing his hands together in a self-pacifying gesture. He looks uncertain and almost guilty, almost as if he was caught red-handed, despite the fact that he did nothing wrong.
> 
> Kaito beams at him and gives him a thumb up, the expression on his face earnest and reassuring.
> 
> “Sure I am! Anything for my sidekick!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **CW** : blood drinking, major character death

“Are you sure, Momota-kun?” 

 

Shuichi fidgets in place, clasping and squeezing his hands together in a self-pacifying gesture. He looks uncertain and almost guilty, almost as if he was caught red-handed, despite the fact that he did nothing wrong.

 

Kaito beams at him and gives him a thumb up, the expression on his face earnest and reassuring. 

 

“Sure I am! Anything for my sidekick!” 

 

Shuichi gulps nervously but nods and takes a step closer.

 

“Ah, you should probably sit down, Momota-kun,” he says meekly, his voice almost apologetic. “I won’t take much, I promise, but you might feel a little light-headed once it’s over.”  

 

Kaito nods and sits down on a nearby chair, the smile never leaving his face. He slips his trademark galaxy jacket off his shoulders and tilts his head to the side to give Shuichi easier access to his neck. 

 

Shuichi takes a deep breath, bracing himself, even though he’s not the one who’s going to end up with vampire’s fangs in his neck.

 

“A-are you ready?”

 

“Yeah! Let’s do this!” 

 

Even though Kaito gave him his explicit consent Shuichi still hesitates, pale hands hovering uncertainty over the astronaut’s shoulder. clear in his eyes but Kaito smiles at him. It’s a warm smile, an encouraging one. He even gives him a thumb up and Shuichi almost bursts out laughing at the silly gesture, the nervous energy filling him to the brim and looking for an excuse for an outlet.  

 

With one last breath to calm his nerves, Shuichi leans in before he can change his mind and razor-sharp fangs sink in the delicate skin of Kaito’s neck.

 

Kaito lets out a pained yelp and a wave of guilt washes over Shuichi. He almost retreats but then the sweet taste finally registers and he clings closer instead. The taste of blood is always exhilarating, pleasure impossible to describe drowning out any other sensation. Even vampires like Shuichi — who prefers to feed on small animals and avoids drinking human blood — is weak for it.  

 

Sharp teeth sink in deeper, the taste of blood heavenly on his tongue as he clings even closer, practically pressing his entire body against Kaito, lapping at the delicious blood greedily.

 

It goes on for a while, the sound of gulping filling the room.

 

“S-shuichi?” says Kaito suddenly, his voice uncharacteristically weak, almost hesitant. Shuichi can feel astronaut’s hand pressing against his chest, trying to push him away and wriggle out of his half-embrace. “I-I think that’s e-enough.”

 

Shuichi only hums against his skin in response but otherwise doesn’t acknowledge his comment in any way, leaning in closer, looking for a better angle. A pair of strong arms pulls the astronaut flush against his body, unsatiated. One of his hands wraps around Kaito’s wrist, strong enough to leave bruises.

 

“S-stop…” Kaito protests weakly, but it lacks any strength. 

 

His smile is gone and a look of terror slowly blossoms on his suddenly-pale face. 

 

Shuichi can feel him going limp in his arms but he doesn’t seem to care, he can’t let go now, not until his thirst is completely satisfied. He’s overwhelmed by the pure liquid bliss spreading through his veins, the taste of Kaito’s blood addictingly sweet. He feels ravenous, reveling in the sensation.

 

When he finally lets go the body beneath him is cold, wide-open eyes staring at nothing.

 


	14. Saihara/Kiibo - TREAT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virginhara strikes again!

Shuichi could feel Kiibo’s intense stare on his back.

 

He wasn’t even sure if the robot was aware that he was staring, but it was almost thirty minutes now and it was starting to feel… unnerving. Shuichi tried to focus on the book he was reading but the intensity of Kiibo’s gaze and his natural curiosity made it hard to focus on the words.

 

With a quiet sigh he closed the book, realizing that he’s not going to get any reading done, at least not until he knows what’s on Kiibo’s mind. He raised his head and plastered a polite smile on his face.  

 

“Do you need something, Kiibo-kun?” he asked turning to the other Ultimate.

 

Kiibo’s eyes widened and Shuichi almost smiled. That seemed to confirm that his theory was true and his robotic friend truly wasn’t aware of what he was doing.

 

Kiibo dropped his gaze, his fans whirring in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, Saihara-kun. I was just wondering…”

 

He trailed off, uncharacteristically shy. Whatever it was it looked like he wasn’t sure how to approach the subject.

 

That piqued Shuichi’s interest. “What is it?”

 

Kiibo still looked uncertain, but after a moment of what looked like a heated internal debate he finally gave in and finally asked the question that has been nagging him for the last thirty minutes. “What is kissing for?”

 

Shuichi’s mind went blank.

 

“Excuse me, what?” he blurted out before he could stop himself, an involuntary blush slowly creeping on his cheeks.

 

Somehow Kiibo managed to look even more embarrassed than him, nervously playing with his fingers and avoiding Saihara’s gaze.

 

“It’s just… you see, I did a lot of research on the topic and I seem to have a good understanding of the possible variations and commonly prefered circumstances. What I cannot understand, however, is why. I’ve read about this widely accepted theory that that humans do it because it helps them sniff out a quality mate but—”

 

He paused, only now realizing that Shuichi froze in place, red like a ripe potato on the face and with a look of speechless shock in his eyes.

 

“S-saihara-kun?” Panic crept into Kiibo's voice. “Have I done something wrong? Is everything alright?”

 

Shuichi swallowed audibly, trying to find the strength to respond.

 

“Excuse me, Kiibo-kun,” he apologized, looking anywhere but at his friend. The words were almost blending together with how fast he was spitting them out. “I’ve just realized that I left important files in the classroom I’m sorry I have to go _now_!”

 

And with that he bolted out of the library, leaving a very confused Kiibo to stare after him.

  



	15. Saihara/Ouma - TRICK

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ouma didn’t know how to feel about the fact that the ever-reliable Saihara Shuichi who led them through every trial up until now, turned out to be the very mastermind that imprisoned them in this hell. He thought about the whiteboard standing in his room and almost laughed out loud thinking about the hastily scrawled ‘trustworthy?’ under the detective’s photo. It felt like a cruel irony now and it would be almost laughable if only he wasn’t furious at himself that he let his guard down and allowed himself to believe that Saihara could be anything but suspicious. If he did, then maybe things would be different now. Maybe he wouldn’t sit on the throne in the Ultimate Supreme Leader’s lab, red rope wrapped around him in an unforgiving embrace and at the mercy of the mastermind himself. He should have known that this stupid crush of his will be his doom.

Ouma didn’t know how to feel about the fact that the ever-reliable Saihara Shuichi who led them through every trial up until now, turned out to be the very mastermind that imprisoned them in this hell. He thought about the whiteboard standing in his room and almost laughed out loud thinking about the hastily scrawled ‘trustworthy?’ under the detective’s photo. It felt like a cruel irony now and it would be almost laughable if only he wasn’t furious at himself that he let his guard down and allowed himself to believe that Saihara could be anything but suspicious. If he did, then maybe things would be different now. Maybe he wouldn’t sit on the throne in the Ultimate Supreme Leader’s lab, red rope wrapped around him in an unforgiving embrace and at the mercy of the mastermind himself. He should have known that this stupid crush of his will be his doom.

 

Saihara was standing in front of him, beaming at his bound classmate. 

 

“Finally,” he sounded thrilled, like a child who got the coveted toy, “I waited for this moment.”

 

The Supreme Leader tilted his head to the side, feigning innocence.

 

“Oh? And what are you planning to do with me now, Mr. Mastermind?” He smiled widely, words a striking contrast with his expression. “Kill me?”

 

For a long moment Saihara just stared at him as if taken aback by the sudden question. And then he chuckled, clearly amused. 

 

“What? No, oh god, of course not.”

 

He stepped closer and leaned in, raising his hand. He started to gently caress Ouma’s cheek. The smaller boy made a face at the gesture and tried to pull away but the heavy coils of rope kept him in place. 

 

Saihara laughed at Ouma’s futile attempts to escape his touch and before the other boy could even react he licked Ouma’s cheek. Ouma shuddered in disgust, not even trying to hide the fact that he thought that Saihara’s behavior and everything he represented was repulsive. 

 

“Nah, I think I’ll keep you,” informed him Saihara, grey eyes shining dangerously in the dim light of the room. He looked almost feverish, blush spread over his cheeks and eyes bright with despair. “The next trial is coming and I’ll need a little helper to make it the best trial yet!”

 

He looked positively giddy, the prospect of another murder and following execution filling him with childish excitement.

 

“Who said that I’ll help you?” asked Ouma cheekily, but the cheer in his voice didn’t reach his eyes.

 

Saihara chuckled and leaned in closer, his hot breath tickling the skin of Ouma’s neck when he whispered directly into his ear. “Who said that you’ll have a choice?”

 

And with that he reached to his pocket and pulled a Flashback Light out of it. Ouma's eyes widened and he opened his mouth as if to scream, but before he could - he was swallowed by the blinding light.


	16. Ouma/Shinguji - TREAT [NSFW-ish]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW-ish, nipple clamps, implied humiliation kink

"Hnngg..."

 

Kokichi couldn’t quite stop the low moan from escaping his lips when a flash of pain surged through his nipple, the touch of cold metal sending shivers down his spine. For a split second, he looked almost embarrassed as if he didn’t mean to react that way, expressing his pleasure so clearly. He immediately covered it with faux-tears gathering in the corners of his eyes and a trembling lip.

 

“H-hurts,” he sniffled.

 

"You are the one who sought my help," reminded Korekiyo, rolling the thin chain joining the clasps attached to Kokichi's nipples between his fingers and tugging at it slightly, his cat-like eyes carefully observing the Ultimate Supreme Leader’s reactions. "Or do you require my help in reminding you?"

 

The tears immediately disappeared from Kokichi’s eyes, almost like they were never there.

 

"Shinguji-chan is so mean,” he whined, lips curling into a pout.

 

Korekiyo chuckled, straightening up. He looked down at Kokichi, the look on his face pensive. Kokichi’s face was pleasantly flushed, eyes slightly glazed over with pleasure and his bottom lip caught between his teeth. He was pleasantly surprised to see a full-body blush spreading slowly over his pale skin. Both of his nipples were caught between small metal clamps, squeezing them and applying the pressure, enough to stimulate the sensitive buds and cause slight discomfort, but not enough to cause any real damage.

 

He tugged at the chain, making Kokichi lean in closer, one of his hands instinctively grabbing Korekiyo’s arm to catch his balance. He let out a surprised hiss of pain that quickly turned into another moan.

 

“If you wish for me to be truly cruel maybe I should make you wear them under your clothes and in public,” he commented darkly, eyes narrowed as he watched the blush on Kokichi’s face darken and his lips press into a thin line to prevent any more noises.

 

A slow smile crept into Korekiyo’s face under the mask covering his lips.

 

“But first I shall add some weights.”

 


	17. Ouma/Amami - First Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: first kiss + staring at the other’s lips, trying not to kiss them, before giving in

_ “Mine!” _

 

Less than a minute after Amami took out the bottle of grape-flavored Panta from the vending machine, it was pulled out of his hand before he even had a chance to register what was happening. He only managed to notice a purple blur flashing before his eyes and hear the obnoxious horse-like laugh. And then the next thing he knew was that his hands were empty and in front of him stood the Ultimate Supreme Leader, a shit-eating grin stretching his lips and a familiar bottle of Panta clutched triumphantly in his right hand. 

 

Amami sighed and rested his hands on his hips in an authoritative pose. “It is  _ my _ soda, Ouma-kun.”

 

“Nuh-uh! Look, it has my saliva all over it!” 

 

Amami’s brows furrowed. “No, it doesn’t.”

 

“Is Amami-chan sure?”

 

Ouma flashed him a mischievous grin and in one sweeping motion he unscrewed the lid and pressed the bottle against his lips, gulping a mouthful after mouthful until Amami was sure that he downed at least half of what was in the bottle. 

 

When he finished he let out a loud satisfied sigh, closed the bottle and threw it in Amami’s direction. The Ultimate Adventurer caught it clumsily. 

 

“Nishishi, now it does!” he laughed, hands folding behind his head and looking at Amami with a wide and self-satisfied grin. 

 

Amami opened his mouth to reprimand Ouma for taking his drink, but before he could get any words out something got him distracted. His eyes lingered on Ouma’s lips for a second too long, full and glistering, still slightly wet after drinking. 

 

Ouma didn’t even wait to listen to what Amami had to say and instead started to sprout his usual nonsense, going on and on about some kind of prank that he was planning. But Amami wasn’t listening to him anymore. 

 

The idea has been planted in his head and now it was all he could think about. 

 

He simply couldn’t pry his eyes away from Ouma’s lips, soft and pink and tempting, stretched in a teasing smile. It would be oh-so-easy to just lean in and capture them in his, press against Ouma and find out how he tastes, find out how his body would feel beneath him. It was a nagging thought, one that he regretted and even felt ashamed of. It felt like he breached the fragile sense of trust between them, thinking about Ouma that way. But he just couldn’t help himself, months of helpless pining no longer possible to ignore and leading him to this moment.

 

He took a step closer and then hesitated, the vague sense of nervousness laced with embarrassment settling low in his stomach. Ouma still hasn’t noticed the change in his demeanor, hands still folded behind behind his head and this wide grin of his never once leaving his face, a constant stream of lies coming from his lips. Amami swallowed audibly and dared to take one more step closer. He could swear that he saw a flash of surprise flicker in Ouma’s eyes, as if the leader could tell that something was up, but he didn’t pause his monologue and the look was gone within seconds, so it might have been only a pigment of Amami’s imagination. 

 

Amami could feel his hands getting sweaty, his thoughts growing more and more panicked as he was grasping at excuses to bolt out of the room, run until he’s as far away from Ouma as possible, somewhere where his heart wouldn’t be beating so outrageously loud, threatening to burst out of his chest. 

 

Ouma finally noticed that Amami went surprisingly quiet and that he was wasting one of his best lies on someone who wasn’t even paying attention to him. He quirked an eyebrow, lips curling into a pout.

 

“Amami-chan is not listening,” he complained, puffing his cheeks.

 

The Ultimate Adventurer wanted to say something, but his mouth felt dry and all the possible words of explanation fled his mind. He just stood there and let his eyes rest on Ouma’s mouth for a long second and then rise to look straight into lilac eyes. He did it slowly. Repeatedly. Making his intent clear.

 

At first the Supreme Leader looked confused, unsure what exactly he was getting at. But then Ouma’s eyes widened just a fraction and Amami could tell that he realized what was going on, understanding filling his eyes.

 

Amami could feel his cheeks heat up, embarrassment heavy in his chest. He looked into Ouma’s eyes, looking for any traces of reluctance, a sign that he should just back off and apologize, pretend it never happened. But there was nothing in Ouma’s eyes other than something that reminded Amami of the same nervousness that he felt himself. Unconsciously, he moved closer and let his lips hover inches above Ouma’s for a few seconds more, giving the smaller boy a chance to retreat, turn it all into some silly joke and forget about the whole thing. Hell, he could even laugh at Amami, ridicule him for even entertaining the idea of someone as lowly as himself kissing  _ the _ Supreme Leader, the ruler of a big evil organization that will soon take over the world. But no such thing happened and Ouma stayed were he was, a faint blush spreading shyly across his nose and cheeks, lilac eyes open wide. It looked like he was holding his breath, waiting for the other Ultimate’s next move. 

 

Amami took one last shuddering breath, mustered all of his courage and closed the distance between them. 

 

It was just a shy brush of lips against lips at first, the touch sweet and soft, lingering for a moment. Amami watched as Ouma’s eyes fluttered shut, eyelashes curling and brushing against the milky pale skin. Feeling bolder, Amami rested one of his hands against Ouma’s hip, pulling him closer and letting their lips meet again, this time with more confidence.

 

Amami never thought much about it (at first because there was no reason to and then simply because there was no sense in indulging in fantasies that wouldn’t come true) but he never expected Ouma to be so shy, so pliant. He could feel him sigh into the kiss, leaning into the touch easily, fingers clutching at the front of Amami’s shirt. 

 

Amami’s heart fluttered, warmth spreading through his body and lips curling into a small smile.

 

He pulled Ouma closer, finally ending the kiss and then instantly staring to dot his face with quick, chaste kisses, targeting Ouma’s cheeks and jaw and forehead, reveling in the sound of the smaller boy’s laugh. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm going to start adding not only the trick or treat ficlets here because I don't want to create another ficlet collection fic.


	18. Iruma/Akamatsu - TREAT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Kaede slips some sleeping pills into Miu's food without her knowledge because she's dumb and refuses to sleep 
> 
> Please, remember that this is fiction and that you shouldn't do something like that in real life even if you have good intentions. Certain medicines should never be crushed and you shouldn't give anyone pills without their knowledge. It's just a fluffy little ficlet but if you feel like this might be triggering - please don't read.

Kaede approached the door leading to Miu’s lab with a thumping heart and clammy hands, anxiety twisting her insides. She knew that her plan was risky and that Miu would be mad if she found out, but… She had to try. Gathering all her courage she pushed the door and stepped inside before she could change her mind and bolt out of there.

 

She let out a shaky exhale as soon as her eyes landed on Miu’s figure sprawled on the couch they dragged there a few months ago, some tool that Kaede didn’t recognize clamped in one hand and the unfinished chip she has been working on for the last few days in the other. It looked like her little plan was successful. She let herself stare at her sleeping girlfriend for a few long moments, stress slowly fading away and a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She could feel the warm feeling of relief spreading through her body, tense muscles relaxing at the sight before her eyes.

 

Miu was snoring quietly, the only human sound in the room among the constant whirring of machines lined up along the length of the walls and scattered all over the floor. Her hair was messy and gathered into a high bun held in place by a rubber band and Miu’s goggles. She looked more relaxed than Kaede has seen her in days, bloodshot eyes closed and a small trail of drool dribbling down her chin.

 

Kaede felt bad about slipping a few crushed sleeping pills into Miu’s dinner, the familiar feeling of guilt lingering at the back of her mind, but she chose to ignore it for now. She made sure to consult the Ultimate Nurse, but she still wasn’t proud of what she did even though it felt like it was necessary. Sleep deprived Miu was a dangerous Miu and Kaede still remembered the sound of the explosion that resounded throughout the entire Hope’s Peak Academy the last time Miu let it get that bad and almost destroyed half of their school building. She shuddered at the memory of panic that she felt that day then when she rushed to Miu’s lab only to find her unconscious and weak on the floor. Kaede has never felt more helpless in her life than in that moment and the memory was still fresh in her head whenever she closed her eyes, hidden behind her eyelids and haunting her during long sleepless nights. She loved Miu, loved her more than life itself, but sometimes her girlfriend could be infuriating, refusing to sleep, refusing to take care of herself, too focused on her work to take a minute for some desperately needed rest.     


 

She quietly slipped her feet out of her shoes and moved next to the couch and Miu’s sleeping figure, careful to make as little noise as possible. She reached to her backpack and pulled out a warm blanket covered with miniature dicks that Miu got her for the Valentine’s Day and wrapped it around her shoulders to keep her warm. Miu’s lab wasn’t exactly one of the warmest places, the chill only getting worse in the colder seasons. Miu often complained about it but refused to do something about it, even though with her skills it wouldn’t take longer than a few hours. The last time Kaede pointed that out Miu just pouted in that adorable way that never failed to make pianist’s heart skip a beat and declared that her skills should be used for greater things.

 

_ Good thing that she has me to take care of her _ , thought Kaede as she carefully laid down next to Miu, pulling her closer as gently as she could once she found a comfortable position.

 

Miu let out a barely audible murmur in her sleep and snuggled closer, seeking warmth and comfort of Kaede’s soft body, a small smile playing on her lips. Kaede leaned in and planted a kiss on her girlfriend’s cheek, snuggling closer and wrapping her arms around Miu’s body, relishing in the familiar sensation of having her pressed so close and feeling the steady rise and fall of her chest.

 

She closed her eyes and let the sound of Miu’s snores lull her to sleep.

 


	19. Harukawa/Yumeno & Chabashira/Yumeno - FemslashFeb: Silent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “H-Harukawa-san,” stammered Himiko, guilt pulling at her insides. “I’m s-so sorry for waking you up.”
> 
> She cringed mentally at the sound of her own voice, small and meek and scared. She hated the way she sounded, hated how weak she was despite her promise to be strong. She wanted to be, she really did. For Tenko. For Angie. For everyone who didn’t make it out alive. Maybe even for herself. And yet here she was, as weak as ever, defeated by some silly nightmares and crying like a child. She never deserved Tenko’s kindness, her gentle smiles and unwavering support.
> 
> Tenko was a fighter, a force to be reckoned with.
> 
> Himiko? All Himiko ever did was run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For FemslashFeb2019 day eight. Prompt: silent.
> 
> It was supposed to be Harumeno but Tenmiko is so strongly implied here that I decided to tag it.

Himiko woke up with a scream, her eyes snapping wide open as she almost rolled out of bed, desperately trying to free herself from the blanket trapping her small figure. She was sweaty and gross, the fat hot tears rolling down her cheeks and leaving a wet trail.  Her small hands were trembling when she clenched them around her blanket. She simultaneously wanted to wrap it closer around herself, seek whatever comfort she could find in the soft material, and toss it away, escape its constricting grip. 

 

She stared at the ceiling above her head, little hiccups escaping her lips every now and then and silent sobs wracking her body. She bit her lip, teeth digging into the skin until she could feel blood. If Himiko closed her eyes she could still see a familiar face of a dead girl smiling at her softly and encouragingly, the unwanted memories of bloodstained wood and body splayed limply on the floor flashing before her eyes, leaving her breathless and gasping for air and hurting all over. 

 

She was so concentrated on being as quiet and motionless as possible that she almost jumped when the door to her room opened and the light from the corridor illuminated the room, dispelling the darkness. 

 

Himiko blinked the tears away, squinting to make out the figure standing in the doorframe, even though it could be only one person.

 

“H-Harukawa-san,” stammered Himiko, guilt pulling at her insides. “I’m s-so sorry for waking you up.”

 

She cringed mentally at the sound of her own voice, small and meek and scared. She hated the way she sounded, hated how weak she was despite her promise to be strong. She wanted to be, she really did. For Tenko. For Angie. For everyone who didn’t make it out alive. Maybe even for herself. And yet here she was, as weak as ever, defeated by some silly nightmares and crying like a child. She never deserved Tenko’s kindness, her gentle smiles and unwavering support. 

 

Tenko was a fighter, a force to be reckoned with.

 

Himiko? All Himiko ever did was run. 

 

She was so lost in her self-deprecation that she almost didn’t notice Maki closing the door soundlessly and moving to stand next to Himiko’s bed, her red eyes gleaming in the dark and staring at her with an unfazed look on her face that betrayed no emotion. 

 

“Scoot over.”

 

“Eh?!”

 

Himiko’s eyes went wide but after a second of hesitation, she moved to the side, leaving the right side of the bed empty. A few seconds later the bed dipped under Maki’s weight and Himiko let out a small squeak of surprise. She didn’t protest when Maki’s arms wrapped around her shivering body freezing cold fingers brushing against her waist. The ex-assassins embrace felt stiff but it was comforting all the same. She was used to it by now, Maki a constant unwavering presence familiar and somewhat comforting ever since they escaped the killing game. She wasn’t Angie, whose hugs always felt like heaven, but in a weird way it was close enough. 

 

"Now sleep," instructed her Maki, her eyes already closed. 

 

And so Himiko did.


	20. Tojo/Akamatsu - FemslashFeb: Lavender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She doesn’t sit too close or too far and Kirumi wonders which one of them feels more awkward. Ever since she woke up every interaction with any of the other participants is just… awkward. 
> 
>  
> 
> “So… what are you doing?” Asks Kaede looking curiously at the flowers scattered over Kirumi’s modest dress.
> 
>  
> 
> “A flower crown,” replies Kirumi and she’s glad that her voice sounds as calm as ever.
> 
>  
> 
> Kaede hums quietly and doesn’t press.
> 
>  
> 
> Kirumi’s fingers are fast and precise as they braid the stems, grey-green leaves and long flowering shoots entwined together. The flowers are delicate in her hands, pale blue petals with a trace of mauve brushing against her skin.
> 
>  
> 
> She always liked lavender.

“Tojo-san.”

 

Kirumi flinches violently at the sound of her name that unexpectedly comes from behind her back and fights the urge to jump to her feet and greet Kaede formally, ask if she can be of assistance. The words are already forming at the tip of her tongue and she bits her lips so hard that she can feel the metallic taste of blood to stop herself from voicing them. One of her hands grasps at the long blades of grass. It’s a weird sensation and it feels wrong, makes her feel like frantically reaching for her pocket to pull out the gloves that she knows are there. 

 

She lets out a shaky breath and forces the smallest of smiles on her face when she turns in the direction of the voice. She can’t quite look Kaede in the eyes. 

 

“Hello, Akamatsu-san.”

 

Kaede’s smile looks a little strained at the edges but Kirumi decides not to comment on it. 

 

“Um, can I sit here?” Kaede vaguely gestures to the grass next to Kirumi. “Just… to keep you company, I guess?”

 

Kirumi nods hesitantly, the small polite smile plastered on her face twitching slightly. 

 

“I don’t mind.”

 

Kaede sends her a grateful smile and moves to sit down next to her. She doesn’t sit too close or too far and Kirumi wonders which one of them feels more awkward. Ever since she woke up every interaction with any of the other participants is just… awkward.  

 

“So… what are you doing?” Asks Kaede looking curiously at the flowers scattered over Kirumi’s modest dress.

 

“A flower crown,” replies Kirumi and she’s glad that her voice sounds as calm as ever. 

 

Kaede hums quietly and doesn’t press.

 

Kirumi’s fingers are fast and precise as they braid the stems, grey-green leaves and long flowering shoots entwined together. The flowers are delicate in her hands, pale blue petals with a trace of mauve brushing against her skin. 

 

She always liked lavender. 

 

The flower crown isn’t as nice as she would like it to be, a little uneven and it looks kind of sloppy, as if she gave up halfway through. She can feel the prickle of frustration somewhere deep inside, the irrational anger at no longer being able to complete any task she wants with almost effortless perfection. It’s yet another thing that she just needs to get used to, bury the person she was back inside the game and forget, forget because if she doesn’t she’ll simply go crazy. 

 

She has no recollection of the person she was before the game, almost as if that person never even existed in the first place. There’s nothing that would connect her to her past, as if she just came into existence one day, brain stuffed with fake memories and a talent that was never real. 

 

She’s not Kirumi Tojo, the Ultimate Maid. 

 

She’s not even sure if she’s Kirumi Tojo. 

 

Whoever she was inside that sick game… she wants nothing to do with that person. Even if she wears her face. 

 

Kaede chose to lie down next to her, long blades of grass brushing against her skin and framing her face in a way that makes her look strangely solemn. Kirumi is grateful for the company, even if she can’t articulate that gratitude. She doesn’t think that she would handle being around others but it’s fine if it’s just Kaede. Other than Rantaro she’s the only person who didn’t see her shameful downfall. 

 

It’s almost comforting. 

 

She’s not sure how long they sit in the grass, Kaede’s eyes following the clouds drifting lazily across the pale blue sky and Kirumi’s hands working incessantly on her flower crown. Everything feels like too much without her gloves, this sudden hyper awareness of touch distracting and unnerving. She never took her gloves off in the game. Not even once. Now everything feels like she has to learn how to touch again, learn the difference between textures and pressures and temperatures, all of that new and overwhelming. 

 

She sighs quietly. Her fingers are trembling and she almost feels like crying, the bile in her throat swelling. The flower crown is complete in her hands and she stares at it, a strange sense of anxiety swirling in her chest. Now that it’s ready she’s not sure what to do with it.

 

Her eyes flicker to Kaede, still lying next to her with her eyes closed. For a moment she observes the gentle rise and fall of her chest. Kirumi hesitates but before she can talk herself out of it her hands are already moving and she gently lies the crown on top of Kaede’s head. She holds her breath when Kaede’s eyes flutter open, confusion flashing in her eyes when she turns to look at Kirumi questioningly.

 

“It fits you,” Kirumi smiles faintly.  

 

She only now realizes that lavender is the color of Kaede’s eyes. 


	21. Angie Yonaga/Tenko Chabashira - FemslashFeb

Angie doesn’t understand.

 

She doesn’t understand what the other girls is even doing here, doesn’t understand where this sudden need to be at her side comes from. 

 

Tenko’s fingers are quick and precise as they braid the long hair that cascade down Angie’s back. Her lips are pressed into a thin line and she looks uncomfortable. Her eyes occasionally flicker in the direction of the door, as if she was making sure that it’s still there, providing her with an easy escape route. It’s not the first time that Tenko volunteers to assist her, though why she is so eager to do so is a mystery.

 

She avoids Angie’s gaze, quickly looking away every time their eyes lock, even if only for a split second. In those rare moments that Angie actually manages to catch her gaze only she can see is guilt and something that looks suspiciously like pity.  

 

She is almost tempted to ask Tenko if she’s afraid of her but she doesn’t. 

 

Ever since she woke up Angie hasn’t said even a single word. 

 

She feels lost without Atua’s constant guidance, his quiet murmur at the back of her head, comforting and soothing, leading her through life. The lack of his voice in her head is overwhelming, it feels too loud and too quiet all at once and Angie’s head feels like it’s going to explode. She fears that if she dares to speak her voice will drown out Atua’s if he decides to come back. 

 

Tenko’s presence is a nice distraction, even if she remains quiet. That way Angie can focus on the warmth of her skin when her fingers accidentally brush against her shoulders or how her breath hitches whenever their eyes meet. Tenko doesn’t have to say anything, her body tells Angie everything she needs to know. This new Tenko is different than the one she knew in the game. She’s more quiet, more mellow. Angie hasn’t heard her call any of the boys a degenerate male even once. 

 

It’s a nice change, she decides, even if she’s not exactly sure how to deal with this new version of Tenko. 

 

She can figure it out. 

 

And when she does maybe Atua will come back, too. 


	22. Ouma Kokichi & Harukawa Maki - TRICK

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maki visits Ouma in the hospital after the game.

In the days following his awakening Ouma was practically bound to the bed, his legs too weak to handle the weight of his body, no matter how malnourished and fragile it was.

 

There was little that he could do, spending most of the days either staring at the sickeningly white ceiling of his hospital room or trying to seek some sick sense of comfort in the nightmares chasing him whenever he dared to close his eyes. He didn’t really expect any visits from the fellow participants of Danganronpa fifty-third season, not after everything he’s done.  He was fine with it, too.

 

That’s why when the door to his room suddenly opened he was pretty damn sure that it would be just another nurse with his daily dose of pills, dinner or some gossip that he wasn’t interested in hearing. The last thing he expected to see was Maki Harukawa slipping into his room almost soundlessly.

 

For a moment he simply stared, pretty sure that he was hallucinating. He must have been hallucinating because there was no way that Harukawa of all people would come to pay him a visit.

 

She looked different than he remembered her, her hair much shorter, dark tips barely brushing against her jaw and framing her much-too-pale face. Her clothes were different but that was to be expected. She was wearing a simple black shirt and shorts revealing her scattered with pale scars legs. She looked smaller, somehow, the features of her face softer without a constant scowl.

 

She closed the door quietly as if making sure to not make any noise and then froze as soon as she turned to face him fully and noticed him staring right at her. She started to open her mouth but before she managed to get even a single word out, he was already speaking, as if on autopilot, his in-game persona resurfacing within seconds.

 

“Oh, it’s the killer girl!” Ouma bared his teeth in a smile, his voice way too loud in the small space of the room, booming. “Are you here to finish the job?”

 

Harukawa glared from her place next to the door but it felt more like an instinctive response than actual anger. She looked tense, lips pressed into a tight line and hands curled into tight fists and resting at her sides. Her whole body language made it clear that she would rather be in any other place and Ouma could feel a spark of curiosity, quietly wondering what the hell she was doing here.

 

Thankfully, Harukawa didn’t keep him in the dark for long, finally gathering the courage to speak up. Predictably, she was as to the point as ever. Nothing, however, would have prepared him for what he heard next.

 

“I came to apologize.”

 

“Eeehh--??” Ouma spluttered before he had a chance to slap a mask of indifference on his face, his brain unable to process this new information fast enough.

 

Her eyes darted in the direction of the door one last time, hands tightening even more, making her knuckles turn white. Her piercing red eyes raised to meet his and despite the frown on her face - she looked determined. She took a deep breath, mentally bracing herself.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

His eyes immediately narrowed into thin slips, squinting at her with apparent suspicion.

 

“Is that a trick, Harukawa-chan?” He tilted his head to the side, blinking at her owlishly. “We can be honest with each other, y’know? You can tell me if you’re here to kill me, I won’t tell anyone!”

 

He laughed obnoxiously, shoving his shaking hands under the blankets. His eyes didn’t leave his guest’s face even for a second.

 

Harukawa’s frown deepened, tugging at her lips and giving her a dark look that he was so familiar with back in the game.

 

“I’m not here to kill you,” she said, her voice completely flat. “I… I just wanted to apologize.”

 

“Huh? Does Harukawa-chan even know what she’s even apologizing for?”

 

She opened her mouth, but before she could say a single word he interrupted her yet again.

 

“Oh, I know!” He perked up, looking around the room. “You break my heart, Harukawa-chan, and here I thought that you are being honest for once. Is there a hidden camera somewhere? Did Team Danganronpa set it up? Big heartfelt talk and at the end we fall into each other arms and cry and confess our undying love to each othe--”

 

“I’m sorry for trying to kill you,” she snapped, not letting him finish whatever conspiracy theory he came up with this time. Her eyes were burning. “I’m sorry for trying to strangle you. I’m sorry for how I acted in the game and how I treated you.”

 

For a long moment, everything was still, just two people who used to hate each other staring at one another in silence, the not-so-distant memory of poison-tipped arrows and hydraulic press hanging heavily in the air.

 

Ouma let out a shuddering laugh, the sound of it quiet and hollow.

 

“Get out.”

 

A look of surprise crossed Harukawa’s face, taken aback by the unexpected order. “What?”

 

“Didn’t you hear me, Harukawa-chan? Do you have problems with your ears? Good thing that we’re in a hospital then - you can go get that checked out.” He mocked cheerfully.

 

Harukawa took a hesitant step back, shuffling closer to the exit, her eyes darting between the door and his face. She looked torn, unsure whether she should expect any acknowledged of her apology or be concerned by the sudden shift in his mood.

 

And then, Ouma raised his head, blinking away the tears prickling at the corners of his eyes and shouted, ignoring the harsh beeping of the electronic vital signs monitors suddenly growing loud and erratic.

 

“GET OUT!”

  
  



	23. Ouma | Momota | Shirogane - TRICK

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **CONTENT WARNING: body horror (related to eyes), character death, torture, blood**
> 
> This one is short but DARK. Really dark. It was requested on Tumblr with a prompt "You won't be needing this eye anymore, might as well take it out". It's very different from other ficlets in this collection so if you find this kind of content upsetting or triggering - just move on to the next chapter or close this fic.

He could feel his skin crawl when Shirogane caught his chin in a vice-like grip of her fingers and leaned in, her rotten breath ghosting over his lips and making him feel like gagging. 

 

“You have pretty eyes, Ouma-kun,” giggled Shirogane, her voice velvety and eyes swirling with despair. “So pretty…”

 

He forced his eyes away from her, looking over her shoulder on Momota’s body sprawled on the ground next to the wall like a marionette with broken strings, big gaping holes where his eyes used to be oozing blood so dark that it looked black in the poorly lit room. 

 

Stupid Momota-chan. Always trying to play the hero.

 

The idea of sharing his fate didn’t seem appealing at all. 

 

However, the idea of coming out of it alive somehow felt even worse... 

 

Shirogane’s long sharp fingernail started to circle the skin around his right eye, making him hiss sharply when they digged deeper into the skin and bringing his attention back to her. He instinctively started to tug harder at the ropes leaving burning marks on his wrists but it was a lost battle. 

 

He knew it. She knew it. 

 

It was only a matter of time until...

 

“It’s such a shame… you won’t be needing that eye anymore,” she continued, her voice practically dripping with faux sadness and still shockingly sweet. “Might as well take it out.”

 

“Are you sure, Shirogane-chan?” Ouma tried to tease but his voice sounded hollow even to his own ears, shaking just as much as his frail body. “I’m pretty sure it can still come in handy in the future!”

 

“Hm,” she hummed quietly, caressing his cheek in a way that in different circumstances would have been almost tender. He flinched away, unable to stop the full-body shudder.   

 

“No, I don’t think so,” she decided after a while and turned to the table where various devices laid, all ready to use, some of them stained with blood.

 

“Shall we start?”


	24. Ouma/Amami - "I missed you" kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of Tumblr requests.

Amami didn’t even have enough time to put his bags down when something collided with him with such force that it almost send him on the ground.

 

“O-Ouma-kun!”

 

“Amami-chan,” whined Ouma, holding his arm in a steel-like grip. “Never ever leave me again!”

 

Amami chuckled, resting his hand on the top of Ouma’s head and patting it gently, the long curly strands soft under his fingers.

 

“Ah, you know I can’t promise that, Ouma-kun,” he laughed lightly.

 

Ouma pulled away slightly, his pouty face looking at Amami with a half-true and half-pretend reproach.

 

“Amami-chan doesn’t care about me,” he sniffles pitifully, his lower lip trembling. If Amami didn’t know him as well as he did he would have fell for it. Probably. “You leave me here all alone and then you expect me to greet you back with hugs and kisses.”

 

“Well,” Amami rubbed the back of his neck, letting out another breathy laugh. “A welcome back kiss would have been nice.”

 

He said that jokingly but it was then that something in Ouma’s expression shifted, pout suddenly replaced with a wide grin.

 

“Ohoho,” he giggled, eyes full of glee. “Someone’s gotten bold!”

 

Amami laughed easily. “You might have a point.”

 

Ouma rocked on his heels, his hands clasped behind his back.

 

“Weeell, if Amami-chan insists then he leaves me no choice!”

 

Amami couldn’t even get to blink because seconds later Ouma’s hands were already on his shoulders and the smaller boy stood on his tip toes, planting a quick kiss on his lips with a loud ‘mwah!’. It could hardly be called a kiss, really, just a chaste press of lips against lips, an almost-prank. But it was enough to catch Amami off guard, his eyes blinking slowly when Ouma pulled away, his grin only growing.

 

“Nishishi. You should have seen your face! Wow, Amami-chan, I sure hope I haven’t just deflowered your lips! That would be pretty lame.”

 

Ouma kept joking and teasing and mocking, but as Amami stared at the red, vibrant blush spreading over the other boy’s cheeks and giving his ears a rosy tint - he couldn’t help but think that he wasn’t the one who was the most surprised by the sudden kiss. Even though he sure as hell didn’t see it coming.


	25. Ouma/Yumeno - TREAT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He could feel the hot breath at the back of his neck and the tremble in the fingers that wrapped around his forearm, digging into his skin almost painfully. His companion’s nervous energy was almost tangible in the freezing air of the dark alley they’ve been hiding in.
> 
> “I’m cold,” repeated the voice from before, this time more urgently and with an almost audible pout. It was immediately followed by the sound of clattering teeth.
> 
> “Wow, Yumeno-chan, I didn’t know that you want to get caught so badly,” drawled Ouma in response, turning to grin at her.

“I’m cold.”

 

Kokichi fought the urge to roll his eyes with great difficulty, shifting away from the other girl and trying to navigate them in the dark of the night in a city he’s never been to before and trying not to draw any attention to them. They already had a target on their backs and he really wasn’t in the mood for being captured by some diots blinded by the promise of fame and money. 

 

Geez, this whole Ultimate Hunt bullshit has been really getting on his nerves. 

 

He could feel the hot breath at the back of his neck and the tremble in the fingers that wrapped around his forearm, digging into his skin almost painfully. His companion’s nervous energy was almost tangible in the freezing air of the dark alley they’ve been hiding in. 

 

“I’m cold,” repeated the voice from before, this time more urgently and with an almost audible pout. It was immediately followed by the sound of clattering teeth. 

 

“Wow, Yumeno-chan, I didn’t know that you want to get caught so badly,” drawled Ouma in response, turning to grin at her. 

 

Yumeno’s eyes widened and she looked left and right frantically as if expecting someone to jump out of the shadows and tackle her to the ground. Her eyes darted to the side and pursed her lips. 

 

“Stop scaring me,” she reprimanded childishly, wrapping her arms around her small form. Truly a pitiful sight. 

 

Ouma let out a dramatic gasp. “I have done no such thing! What are you accusing me here of, Yumeno-chan?”

 

The girl sniffled miserably.

 

“Tell me that you found a place for us to stay the night,” she pleaded, tucking her hands under her armpits in a desperate need to warm them up. “I don’t wanna die on the street…”

 

“Dunno, you should reconsider, Yumeno-chan! Dying on the street sure has its perks!”

 

Yumeno finally lifted her eyes from the ground to look at him, her big eyes filled with tears, turning them glassy. She sniffled some more. 

 

“Ugh, fiiine,” Ouma relented finally. He really didn’t need her crying now. He wondered how she even lasted that long, they only bumped into each other the day before and whenever she tried to share what was happening to her in all this time since the Ultimate Hunt began he would simply tune out her blabbering. 

 

Ooops. 

 

“You wait here,” he instructed her firmly.

 

“W-what? No!” 

 

In a second she was at his side, clinging to his arm desperately with the strength he never expected from someone like her. “Don’t leave me here!”

 

“You know, I wasn’t planning to but you’re so loud maybe I should leave you here. You are toootally gonna get us both killed.”

 

Her cheeks reddened with anger. 

 

“I’m totally not gonna get us killed! A-and… you b-better not leave me here! Or... or I’ll curse you! I’ll turn you into a big and ugly toad!”

 

“One as ugly as you?” Ouma’s eyes went wide and he whistled quietly, impressed. “Waah, Yumeno-chan, I don’t think that’s possible!” 

 

Not waiting for her response he wriggled his arm out of her grip and disappeared into the darkness, hoping that she won’t follow after him and get them both killed for real.


	26. Akamatsu/Chabashira - TREAT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the person who sent me this request on Tumblr!  
> soulmates AU (the kind where whatever you write/draw on your hand appears on your soultmate's skin)

A small gasp almost tears itself out of her throat when a familiar tingle runs down the length of her arm, like a tickling brush of feathers that starts at her elbow and travels down until it ends at the verge of her wrist. She looks around anxiously and after making sure that no one is looking in her direction – their history teacher lost in one of her impossibly long personal anecdotes that had nothing to do with the actual class – she ducks her head under the desk and impatiently tugs at the long sleeve of her shirt, revealing the tanned patch of skin underneath.

There are musical notes that haven’t been there earlier, coiling around her wrist and traveling higher, symbols Tenko’s never been taught how to read. She’s never had enough patience for any of it; too impetuous, too hasty… or at least that’s what her mother said. She gave up on piano lessons before they could even start, too excited about the prospect of learning self-defense instead of it, all so she could protect that poor girl with crooked glasses and rabbit teeth from her class, the one that boys loved to pick on.

Looking at these symbols now she can feel a strange combination of excitement and anxiety swirling at the pit of her stomach, a feeling that almost makes her nauseous. It’s an unknown sensation, one she’s not used to at all and despises secretly. She swallows thickly when more notes materialize on her arm, curving around the dip of her elbow, joined by hastily scribbled ‘how are you?’ accompanied by a smiley face that looks up at Tenko innocently.

Her soulmate seems friendly, is what Tenko decides.

Friendly and talented, and kind, and all kinds of things Tenko would have wanted in a person designed for her by destiny.

Her hand shakes slightly when her fingers clench around her pen and she lets its tip rest against her soulmate’s question, anxiety fluttering in her stomach as she wonders how to respond.

There’s no doubt in her body that she’ll love her soulmate with all her heart. They’ve only been ‘talking’ – if scribbling and doodling and scrawling on her arm can be even called that – only for a week or so, but she can already feel herself falling, spiraling out of control fast, way too fast.

No, she knows she’s going to love her soulmate. She already does.

She just hopes the feeling is mutual.

 


End file.
